


Heart of Dragons

by Lyss2011, UniquelyQueer_67



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Bitterness, Canon Era, Dark Arthur, Dark Gwen, Declarations Of Love, Evil Morgana (Merlin), F/F, Fire, First Kiss, Flowers, Forced Bonding, Gwaine Being Gwaine (Merlin), Hurt Merlin (Merlin), M/M, Magic Made Them Do It, Magic Revealed, Merlin & Morgana being buddies, POV Alternating, Pining, Plants, Redeemed Morgana (Merlin), Teamwork, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, but ANGST, gwaine & percival being (discretely) gay, the plant/flower that magically amplifies emotion trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-05-13 00:32:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 15,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19240231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyss2011/pseuds/Lyss2011, https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniquelyQueer_67/pseuds/UniquelyQueer_67
Summary: After Arthur's traitorous uncle laces the royal wine with the thorn of a Vuin Lily, Arthur and Gwen's strongest emotions and desires are forced to the surface; and the results are terrifying, eye-opening, and only slightly comedic.But will two magical mortal enemies, a few knights, and Gaius' books be enough to save Camelot's royalty? Or will Merlin and Morgana have to choose between hiding who they are from the people they love, or facing the pyre under their home's barbaric laws?Either way, a magic reveal fic has never been more complicated.





	1. The Traitor's Plan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lyss2011](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyss2011/gifts).



As the sun set over the forests of Camelot and the kingdom was cloaked in darkness, a single hooded figure made their way to Her dungeons. Even the King lay in slumber with his Queen as the figure approached their point of exit from the citadel.

When Agravaine arrived, his sleeping draught had already taken effect, and the guards lay dreaming at their posts. He carefully moved past their snoring forms, and those of the drunkards taken captive from a night of amorous activity, until he reached the entrance to Camelot’s siege tunnels. With the key entrusted to him by his nephew, he opened the small entrance-way, removing a torch from it’s sconce upon the stone wall, and descended under the castle.

As Agravaine made his way through the damp, dank tunnels, he recalled a conversation with Arthur’s court physician that prompted him to organise that night’s meeting with Morgana in the first place.

 

* * *

 

_“Where did you say you found this?” he enquired, twirling the stalk of the flora between his fingers. Gaius regarded him with the self same level of trepidation that Agravaine had come to expect from the old man._

_“It wasn’t I who discovered it.” he retrieved a worn, dusty book from the shelf behind him, placing it on his work bench, “Merlin uncovered the flower while on his errands just yesterday. They were near a patch of Hogwort at the edge of the forest.”_

_Merlin, it was always Merlin. That overly curious child was more trouble than he was worth, if you asked him. Despite this, both Gaius and Arthur held the boy in high regard, making it almost impossible for Agravaine to dispose of him without kicking up a fuss. He’d tried, already, with very little success; and in doing so, has discovered that Merlin would make a truly awful assassin._

_“Have you identified the species yet?” Agravaine probed, as Gaius removed the purple flower from his grasp. In answer to the royal adviser's question, he opened the book from before to a specific page, bearing an illustration that closely resembled the flower in question. Agravaine eyed the text just below the illustration._

_“A Vuin Lily?” as he looked up from the page, Gaius glided over to a cupboard holding multiple empty jars. Taking one from the shelf, he explained._

_“Yes. It is also known as Pixy’s Needle.” this drew Agravaine’s attention to the thorns present in the illustration, “The petals can be used in medicine to relieve pain.” Gaius carefully placed the lily into the jar and replaced the cork stopper._

_“Yes,and what of the thorns?” Agravaine could see that this question had riled Gaius slightly, but he was beginning to see opportunity in this ‘Vuin Lily’, and had to know how it could be used. Gaius yielded._

_“When treated correctly, the thorns can be made into a tonic that amplifies human emotion. It often causes those who drink it to speak out of turn, act impulsively, and in extreme cases, to go mad.”_

 

* * *

 

Gaius had missed the flash of smug pleasure in Agravaine’s eyes.

He also missed when the adviser returned after Gaius and his assistant were out on errands, and ripped out the page on Pixy’s Needle that the physician had shown him that morning.

 

Now, as Agravaine emerged from the siege tunnels and arrived at the outskirts of Camelot’s easterly forests, he removed the page from his cloak and began scouring the woodland borders for the lily. Soon, he discovered a patch of Hogwort near his usual path into the Forest of Brechffa and, accompanying it, a small growth of the Vuin Lilies. He picked a single sprig of the flower, and tucked it into the leather pouch on his belt.

As he embarked on his path into Brechffa, he soon heard the familiar whinnies of his horse, Cirrus, waiting for him. Untying and mounting her, he began his ride to the Valley of The Fallen Kings, to an old hovel, to the Lady Morgana.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is gonna be L O N G. Seriously. Also, the geography of Camelot is WHACK. Enjoy.


	2. Actions Have Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana POV

When Morgana returned to her hovel, it was to find her spy bent over a workbench and her cauldron bubbling over the fire, materials scattered about the place and one of her potion vials being filled.

“Agravaine! How _dare you!_ ” her firewood fell to the floor as the man before her pocketed the vial, and snapped his head around to meet Morgana’s livid expression. Like a frightened rabbit, he dropped what he was doing and slowly approached her, avoiding at all costs her fiery glare.

 

“My Lady,” he began, yet another echo of his usual _grovelling_ routine, “I have discovered something wonderful-”

“I should hope so!” Morgana began, stepping further into the hovel, “If you deem it reason enough for you to _break into my home!”_  she stormed up to Agravaine and shoved past him, “ _Weasel_ ,” she hissed. Then went about cleaning her bench. Agravaine began to explain himself.

“The potion I was brewing should, by all intents and purposes, win you the throne you so desire-” Morgana again exposed him to the inferno in her eyes, “and _deserve_.” he added.

“Then why,” the priestess began, “ _Agravaine_ ,” she spat his name like so much poorly aged wine - and inched her way closer to the man - almost shaking with rage, “ _am I still so FURIOUS WITH YOU!”_ she grabbed at her spy’s cloak, allowing her eyes to glow threateningly. Agravaine panicked, his voice rising several octaves as he pleaded with Morgana.

“My Lady, the potion contains the thorn of a Vuin Lily! It will amplify Arthur’s emotions!” the priestess practically threw him further inside the hovel before slamming her door shut.

“ _Am I supposed to be IMPRESSED!”_ she started closing in on the man again. Her magic lifted him off the ground until his head bumped the ceiling, his legs flailing in earnest.

“ _My Lady, please!_ The potion is known to cause the drinker to act inappropriately in almost every situation!” she allowed her magic to tighten its grip, “Arthur is bound to insult a member of his council or a visiting Lord!”

Morgana pushed his skull further into the hovel’s stone roof and Agravaine whimpered in pain, before finally adding, “ _Or if all else fails it could make him go mad and he’ll be deemed unfit to rule!”_ the sorceress considered his words for a moment, ignoring the man’s incessant whimpers, before lowering him slowly to the ground. She gestured for him to sit, and he obeyed.

 

Settling herself just opposite the spy, Morgana took a deep breath, and spoke.

“No.”

“W-what?” Agravaine spluttered. Morgana raised her hand and silenced him.

“I grow tired of your half-baked attempts at ridding Arthur of his throne,” he began to protest, her hand again yielding silence, “Pixy’s Needle is known to be unpredictable. Instead of your desired outcome, it could’ve caused Arthur to hate _me_ even more than he already does, and then _I_ would be the one having to run from a royally-sanctioned lynch mob,” Agravaine visibly shrunk where he sat, Morgana spared the traitor no pity, “and how would you intend to administer the potion? Yes, it should be odourless, colourless _and_ tasteless - providing you brewed it correctly,” Agravaine perked up at this. Morgana was less than relieved, “ _but_ , why would the royal adviser be skulking around the kitchens? What if you put it into the wrong jug? Suppose Arthur finds out?

“Who would he suspect; a servant doing their job? Or the royal adviser - whose sister was the king’s late mother - wandering about the castle?” her spy let out a resigned sigh and finally stood from his perch, bowing to the priestess.

“My apologies, my Lady-” he began,

“Think it through next time.” Morgana interrupted, harbouring no interest for her traitor’s regrets. He again attempted to speak, “You are _dismissed_ , Agravaine _.”_ and she didn’t remove her eyes from the man until he left, and the sound of hooves could be heard, plodding through the valley.

 

Morgana emptied the cauldron outside, killing an unfortunate patch of daisies - retrieved the firewood she had dropped in her initial shock - and began pouring over spell books to find another way of reclaiming her rightful throne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing this on google docs like a professional! Also I kinda sorta have a beta/source of consistent moral support in the form of my long-term friend, lyss2011 (idk how to link her ao3, lol)


	3. Rock The Boat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur POV
> 
> Edit: This chapter has been revised, with slight differences to aid in the flow of the text.

Arthur shook the hand of the final member of his royal council and watched as the doors to the council chambers closed. They shut with a resounding creak and the king breathed a sigh of relief, plonking down onto his throne ( _gracefully_ and _regally_ , of course).

“You know, Merlin, some days I do seriously consider running away into the forest, never to be seen by civilised society again…” the blonde mused to his servant, who didn’t bother answering him, “What’s wrong?” he asked, a smug twist of his mouth giving away his teasing, “Are my retirement plans so absurd and unreasonable that you won’t even _attempt_ to humour me-” he turned to look behind his throne, the rightful place of the king’s personal manservant. Said manservant being nowhere to be found, the King of Camelot became quite flustered, muttering something about ‘wasting his good material on thin air’.

 

Emerging from the room, he began an irritated march down the corridor - not entirely sure of his destination - but certain that he would arrive there angry, and demanding the whereabouts of his (useless) servant. On his way he knocked into something solid, wearing black. Agravaine muttered a quick, “Excuse me, your majesty.”, before disappearing in the general direction of the stairs to the lower levels.

Arthur’s footsteps echoed as he reached a fork in the corridor. As he rounded the corner, he spotted the familiar forms of his trusted physician and…

“ _Merlin,”_ Gaius warned his apprentice in a hushed voice, a finger pointing at him accusingly, “you need to stop treating _magic_ as a _toy._ ”

Arthur quickly ducked behind the wall and began speculating. Is Merlin taking the scourge of magic in Camelot too lightly? Does he underestimate the enemies to the throne? Does he _overestimate_ Arthur? What exactly is going on here?

“Gaius, you can’t expect me to fulfill the prophecy without using my magic, my only reason for having it is to _protect Arthur_ . Or have you forgotten my destiny?-” Merlin said to him in _that_ voice. The same tone of voice he used when he was saying something that might lead to people who’ve never met him drawing the ridiculous conclusion that Merlin actually had a well-functioning brain in his skull. But it couldn’t be, could it? Merlin couldn’t be a _sorcerer_? For one, Arthur surely would’ve known right away, wouldn’t he?

“Well you’re absolutely no use to Arthur _or_ his kingdom if you’re _dead,_ now, are you?” Merlin sighed at Gaius’ point, “Besides, you’re the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth and if Arthur found out, well.... He isn’t his father, but he has a reputation to uphold and,” Merlin looked as if he was about to speak, but Gaius implored further, “heaven forbid, if word got out, he may be left with no choice but to have you executed.”

Finally, Merlin nodded, “For the good of his reign…”

“ _And_ his people.” Gaius finished, patting the boy on the shoulder and bidding him goodbye, leaving him to finish his chores. And when the physician started down the corridor in Arthur’s direction, the king ran at full speed all the way back to his chambers, slamming the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

By the end of the day, Arthur had given himself some time to think about all that he had learned, and thought it best to simply confront the most trusted member of the royal household over dinner. That is if he even  _can_ be trusted…

So maybe Arthur still wasn’t completely sure what he, the king of Camelot, was supposed to do in this situation. Although, in his defence, Arthur _did_ consider Merlin his best friend. So he supposed that _discussing_ the matter with the criminal would be the best cause of action to take at that time (probably).

 

Just then, Merlin walked into Arthur’s chambers with trays and various types of cutlery, obviously intending to set the table for tonight’s quiet dinner between the king and queen. Upon spotting Arthur, he nearly dropped the whole lot,

“Oh, Arthur, you scared me,” he explained, recovering from his fumble and carrying the trays past the blonde to the dining table, “What brings you back to your chambers so early? I thought you had a council meeting?” Did Merlin suspect him? He couldn’t, could he? Arthur _did_ have a council meeting, though, didn’t he? He supposed that could wait another day.

“I postponed it, _Mer_ lin. I can do that, you know?” And also lie to his manservant. Yes, that was perfectly acceptable behaviour, given the circumstances. From the table, Merlin smiled,“Yes, I know,” he turned around to meet his master’s eyes, “I just wish you wouldn’t use it to gain some form of strange gratification through scaring the living daylights out of me.”

Arthur feigned a scoff. This was good, this was familiar territory for them, some breathing space.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” at that, Merlin huffed.

“Well, it’s not like _you’re_ making any effort to.” and then, with the table set, he swept from the room to fetch the food, and Arthur was left to his jumbled thoughts again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> was gonna have this chapter be longer, decided to split it in two


	4. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin POV
> 
> Edit: This chapter has also been revised and edited accordingly.

Leaving Arthur’s chambers, Merlin descended to the lower levels of the castle and approached the palace kitchens to fetch dinner for the king and queen. Dodging through the usual morning bustle and avoiding everybody’s favourite angry cook, he found Arthur and Gwen’s meal for the evening and picked up the trays. He balanced them professionally on his arms and turned to leave. When he came face to face with the shadowy Agravaine, Merlin wasn't ashamed to admit that he almost dropped a large stuffed chicken.

 

“Oh, my apologies…” Agravaine trailed off, trying to place the boy’s name,

“Merlin-” the boy supplied.

“Ah, Merlin! Dreadfully sorry to scare you like that.” he smiled crookedly, and Merlin thought it looked vaguely apologetic, so he humoured the man,

“Yes, well, I wouldn’t worry too much, my lord. People seem to be making a habit of it at the moment,” Merlin looked down and spotted a jug full of wine in the adviser’s pale hands, “Sorry, sire, but that wine is to be served to their majesties tonight…” Agravaine looked down at the jug, then laughed good-naturedly as if he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding it.

“Oh yes, just as well. I saw you struggling with those trays in your arms,” he nodded to the trays full of specially prepared meats and sweets, “and decided that I should help, even if it is by only,” he lifted the jug slightly and the wine almost spilled in its sloshing, “carrying this for you.” his smile was slightly unnerving, but it was late and Merlin was tired, so he gave him the benefit of the doubt.

“Thank you my lord. Now, if you could follow me, we will deliver these to their majesties.” and he began a slightly rushed walk up to Arthur’s shared chambers with Guinevere, Agravaine trailing behind him, looking (of all things) slightly nervous.

 

Upon arrival at Arthur’s chambers, Agravaine cleared his throat.

“I - er - think I shall - um - wait outside of their majesties’ chambers,” Merlin raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him, “I wouldn’t want to intrude.” the adviser explained. To rehash his previous point; Merlin was _tired_.

“Very well,” he opened the door, “I’ll come back for the wine.” and he entered the room, laid out the food, took the wine from Agravaine upon returning and shut the door on his retreating, shadowy, form.

 

Dinner went swimmingly, and Arthur insisted on saving the wine for a toast to end the meal and the night for Gwen and Arthur, so Merlin kept it in his hands until then. But then the subject changed to something a bit more...controversial.

“I’m just saying, Arthur, that maybe magic only played a _small_ part in corrupting her. After all, she was one of my most loyal friends up to that point.” Arthur only chewed more vigorously at Gwen’s statement. The queen then continued in a softer, more gentle tone, “and she was like a sister to you, if I recall.”

Arthur’s voice was quiet as he hissed a reply, “Well, it would seem she actually _is_ my sister, so I suppose not a lot of effort was applied to _that_ area of her deception.” a heavy silence followed that. Though, after a while, Gwen cleared her throat.

“Either way, our kingdom is safe from her once more, and we are enjoying a peaceful reprieve.” Arthur looked up at her, giving a small, apologetic smile. Gwen’s whole face brightened up a bit at that, and she added, “I think that is cause for at least a toast, don’t you?” and she raised her empty goblet to Merlin, who answered with a smug smile and a quip about Arthur jumping at any opportunity to consume alcohol.

 

So Merlin filled their goblets, and Arthur discreetly pushed another in his general direction, stubbornly avoiding eye-contact. Merlin took it gratefully and filled it as well, placing the jug on the ottoman behind the trio, and then Arthur spoke as they raised their drinks.

“To prosperity and peace in Camelot.” Gwen smiled and repeated the phrase. Then they turned to Merlin, who simply recited,

“For the love of Camelot.”

Everyone hummed in agreement, and Gwen and Arthur drank. Merlin raised the goblet to his lips but did not drink. Wine gave him headaches and he still had a few chores to do before bed. He turned and fussed with the jug and poured the leftover wine back in, before turning to face Arthur, intending to ask permission to leave.

 

 

He hesitated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know how i love me some suspense, right????? NOW is when the real stuff starts, I should think.


	5. Royal (Fuck Up)

He heard more than saw the jug fall to the floor, and he felt more than saw the wine spill over the stone and onto his boots. Arthur and Gwen had both lifted their heads, sharply turning them to stare at Merlin, in perfect unison. It wasn’t until their eyes flashed purple for a moment, that what was happening fully sank in.

It all made sense; and suddenly he asked himself, why  _ was _ Agravaine in the castle kitchens?

The king and queen slowly started to rise from their seats, their eyes unblinking as they bore into Merlin. He could feel magic pouring forth from them, crowding him, suffocating him. The servant glanced at their wine goblets, knocked over and spilling onto the polished wood of the table - red as blood.

It was the wine, he spiked the  _ wine _ .

 

Merlin set off at a run, stumbling out of the royal chambers and making a b-line for the court physician’s quarters. His own breath was harsh and strained in his ears, his boots clacking wetly across the stone as he flew. He didn’t yet know the effects of whatever Agravaine had put in the wine, but he didn’t want to wait to find out. Agravaine was untouchable, Merlin needed help,  _ now _ .

He burst into Gaius’ room a panting, sweating mess. The physician looked up, and he must have seen the wide eyed terror in Merlin’s face, because he leapt to his feet and asked the boy what had happened.

“I think Agravaine put something in the wine. Arthur, Gwen, they… there’s something  _ very _ wrong, I can feel it…”

“Then we must find them, quickly, before they do something they will regret.” Gaius interrupted Merlin’s rambling with a sharp squeeze to his shoulder, and the two made for the royal chambers.

 

Upon arrival, the door was ajar and the monarchs nowhere to be found. Merlin began to panic. Gaius steadied him once more and gestured to Leon, walking away from the chambers. Merlin nodded, following the knight, and left Gaius to collect what was left of the wine to analyse.

“Leon!” he cried. The knight heard the break in his voice though and replied with much concern.

“Are you alright, Merlin?”

“Arthur and Gwen, have you seen them?” he cut the knight off halfway through his question.

“I think they said something about the throne room - are you sure you’re alright, Merlin?” he raised his brow at the servant.

“Yes. Fine. Good. Thank you.” he was already slipping past Leon and started in the direction of the throne room. He could hear the knight’s calls, he just had other priorities.

 

He was a few steps from the slightly open doors to the throne room when,

“You must understand, wife of mine, it is true.” it was Arthur’s voice, but those words did not sound like his own.

“Then they  _ both  _ have magic, I can’t  _ imagine _ your dilemma.” that was Gwen’s voice, but she too sounded most unlike herself. It was almost… sarcastic.

Merlin decided to peek through the small gap in the doors. He saw Arthur, pacing back and forth in front of his own throne, hand poised at his chin and brow furrowed in deep thought, as if he were working through some great personal conflict. On Arthur’s throne sat Guinevere, sideways with both legs hooked over one of the armrests, and twisting a lock of hair around her index finger. Her eyes were foggy and her expression melancholic, as if she were daydreaming about something wonderful that she could never have. It was almost jarring, to see the two acting in this way.

Arthur stomped a booted foot in frustration.

“A dilemma indeed, Gwen.” a pause, “Perhaps darker forces influence me…” he contemplated. He glanced at Gwen and she spat her response, abruptly sitting up.

“Why should  _ I _ feel sorry for you!?  _ Mine _ wants to kill you and take over the kingdom where I live.” Merlin creased his forehead in confusion. Her what?

Arthur flopped onto his wife’s throne with a despairing sigh.

“Is there nothing that could purge the sight of those scorching sapphire eyes from my mind…?” Gwen sighed her agreement,

“Hair black as a starry night…” she purred.

“That shines in the sun like a black diamond…” Arthur completed, holding out his hand as if a diamond did sit there.

“And lips…” Gwen brought up, nearly giggling in her delight.

“Lips I could kiss…” the king added.

“Until the cold embrace of death take us both.” the queen finished.

Merlin was relieved. A love potion could be contained easily enough, he turned to leave. But then Arthur spoke again.

“But alas, wife of mine, our feelings are for that of criminals, sorcerers… for all we know this,” he stood up, holding his hands up, palms toward his face, “ _ burning _ in our skin,  _ yearning _ in our hearts…”

“Could be the result of a...  _ spell _ .” she finished, scowling at the word. But it was nothing to match Arthur’s face. It sent a cold wave down Merlin’s spine. That look, that was the look of rage that Uther had adopted in the throes of the Great Purge. It was a look soaked in the blood of countless innocents, of countless children.

“Well if they are going to commit crimes in  _ my  _ kingdom. Then let them taste the fires of hell, and feel the fires,” he paused, turning to his wife, whom he helped slowly to her feet with a cold hand,

 

“Of the execution.”

 

Gwen smiled wickedly, “They shall be  _ ours _ .”

Arthur, out of his right mind as he was, wrapped a hand around Gwen’s waist and dipped her low. He grinned morbidly as he said, “ _ Or they will burn. _ ” he pulled Gwen to her feet and grabbed her shoulders, eyes wide with the passion of a madman, “Now, Guinevere, we announce the names of our loves to mark the beginning of our mission-”

“The only mission that matters!” she squealed, breathless with excitement.

 

Merlin held his own breath.

 

Gwen looked to the ceiling with closed eyes as she sighed, “ _ Morgana. _ ” and Merlin barely had time to process that before Arthur released his hold on Gwen and looked into the middle distance, his voice a tight rasp, “ _ Merlin. _ ” 

The servant had to cover his mouth to muffle his gasp, but he could do nothing to stop the panicked thudding of his heart. Voices filtered through the door as Merlin staggered silently away. Arthur knew about his magic. Whether his feelings were as a result of the spiked wine or not, he  _ knew _ .

“May they love us,” Gwen recited, Arthur completing the phrase.

“Or may their crimes take them to the grave.”

And their crazed laughter followed Merlin all the way down to the stables, as he hijacked a horse, and set off to Morgana’s hut in the Valley of the Fallen Kings. To demand recompense, and to demand a cure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Gwen are supposed to sound comical at the moment


	6. An Accusation (And A Plea)

“ _Morgana!_ ” Merlin’s call echoed through the valley, birds fled their nests and foxes and badgers ran for their burrows in fear of Emrys’ wrath. He hammered on the door of the hovel. Morgana barely got a chance to open it all the way before she was sent flying into her shelves, broken jars and pieces of splintered wood broke her fall. She looked up at her assailant. 

“Merlin?” she groaned, rubbing her forehead, “Wh- _how?_ ” She slowly stood, “ _Why?_ ”

Merlin’s already golden irises flashed with rage.

“ _Why!?_ I’ll _tell_ you _why!_ ” He stormed over to the witch, dragging her to her feet by the shoulders, “because the king and queen of Camelot are so hopelessly in _love_ that they’re amassing an army to _kill us, that’s why!_ ” Morgana’s face paled. But her complexion began to redden with what seemed to also be rage.

“ _Agravaine._ ” the name was laced with contempt, and Merlin loosened his hold, his glare demanding an explanation in return, “I _told_ him not to do it, I swear!” 

Merlin shook her shoulders in response.

“Do what!” he demanded.

“He came to me yesterday with a Vuin Lily, claiming he could use its properties to discredit Arthur as king-”

“Giving _you_ the opportunity to conveniently step in.” he accused, frown deepening.

“Yes,” she began, “ _except_ , I told him it was too risky and that it would surely _fail_.” she heaved a deep breath and let out a rueful sigh, “I should’ve known he would try to impress me.” Merlin still wasn’t convinced, although...

“I did find a patch of Vuin Lilies while looking for herbs for Gaius the other day-” but Morgana interrupted him.

“That must be where he got the idiotic idea in the first place. I never use Pixy’s Needle, it’s far too temperamental.”

“But why should I believe _you?_ ” he hissed. Morgana scowled as she replied.

“ _Because_ , why on earth would I want an army out for my blood?” There was a pause, and Merlin considered her argument, before he let go of her shoulders and took a step back. 

 

The witch was about to speak, when Merlin allowed his eyes to flash once more in her direction, _daring_ her to continue.

“What _exactly_ is Fairy’s Needle supposed to do, anyway?” Morgana pinched the bridge of her nose and huffed.

“It’s called _Pixy’s_ Needle.” She sat in a chair in a dark corner of the hovel - which could’ve been any corner, really, “and it amplifies emotions.” Merlin found a seat opposite her and warily took it.

“How so?” 

The witch rolled her eyes. “It targets strong feelings, often taking a liking for repressed ones, and brings them to the forefront of the afflicted mind,” she stood, rectifying her fallen shelves with a quick spell and retrieving a book. Merlin eyed her carefully. “It is my guess, therefore, that both Arthur and Gwen harbour a personal grudge toward magic; Arthur because of the death of his mother, exacerbated by _our_ father’s perpetual fear-mongering; and Gwen,” she paused for a moment, and her expression fell. Merlin thought it looked like a shadow of the Morgana he once knew, though he didn’t hold out much hope, “Gwen’s grudge most likely comes from me,” she finished quickly. 

 

It was clear that she wished to avoid the other, somewhat more awkward, part of the spell. But Merlin needed to know, he _had_ to know.

“And the other bit? The bit where they professed their undying love for you and I?” another tense silence filled the room, as Morgana's expression morphed. At first confused, then thoughtful, then (if Merlin dared think so) hopeful. The witch finally broke the silence by clearing her throat.

“It is more than likely that they already had these kinds of affection for the two of us, buried deep below their responsibilities and statuses,” she explained, rather clinically, before biting out, “The potion just unearthed it from that ridiculous farce.”

“Do I sense some bitterness in that statement?” Merlin asked, admittedly with the foolhardiness of someone poking a bear with a stick, but still. Morgana whipped around to face the boy.

“Do not use provocation to mask your reaction to _Arthur’s_ affections, _Merlin_.” That shut him up well enough, “And don’t avoid the subject of your magic.” She swept across the floor and crowded Merlin, her hands on the armrest and her eyes wide with panic, “Did Emrys send you?”

 

Merlin’s world momentarily screeched to a halt, and he analysed Morgana’s words carefully. Morgana knew about the existence of Emrys and, by proxy, everything that went along with it. Including, presumably, the Cailleach's lovely sentiment of Morgana being "the darkness to his light". _However_ , she had no idea it was, in fact, Merlin - if she had, he would have been more of a target in Morgana’s various and fruitless plots, and she wouldn’t have asked the question in the first place. 

 

Next, what did he know about Morgana? She wanted Arthur’s throne, so obviously destiny must've been poised against her - Merlin did feel sorry for her, but quickly moved on. What else? Her dreams. Morgana had prophetic dreams, last time he checked. She must have had a vision for her to be so terrified by Emrys. When combined, that meant that any vision involving Emrys would probably have mentioned Camelot - or, more specifically, its king - and its destiny of prosperity!

 

But she obviously didn't know what Emrys looked like...unless what she saw was Merlin’s signature old-man disguise! Thank the Gods for Dragoon The Great...

 

Thus the conclusion made was: Morgana saw her own demise at the hands of an old sorcerer by the name of Emrys and, after discovering Merlin’s magic (and being aware of both his proximity and loyalty to Arthur) she assumed that the boy may know such a loyal protector of Camelot. That must mean she was trying to find him, to fight her destiny, prevent her doom. Therefore…

 

“What? No,” he said. Morgana backed off significantly.

“Then leave.” She turned away. Merlin stood from his seat.

“But shouldn’t we both be working to cure the king and queen of the potion's effects?”

“Why would I want to help the two people standing between me and my throne?”

“Because,” Merlin began, hoping his conclusion was correct, “Emrys didn’t send me, but I do know where you can find him.” That got the exact reaction he needed, and Morgana spun around, eyes gleaming with 'please don't be lying', “But I will only tell you if you help me cure Gwen and Arthur.”

Morgana seemed to consider it for a moment. Then, she fetched the book she’d retrieved earlier from the table it was abandoned on, and shoved it at Merlin, open to a few torn out pages. Merlin frowned.

“Gaius is the only other person in Camelot with this book, and he has _all_ the pages,” she explained. Merlin looked up at her with a small smile.

 

“Let’s break into a castle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay it seems that Merlin & Morgana are both trying REALLY HARD to avoid the Gay


	7. Keep Your Enemies Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Morgana hatch a plan.

Merlin started gingerly removing items from Morgana’s workbench to clear room for a piece of canvas. The witch elbowed past him and swept her arm across the table, sending everything clattering and smashing to the badly cobbled floor.

“Well, that’s one way to do it…” he surrendered. Morgana shrugged and spread the canvas across the space. Merlin then drew up a rough plan of Camelot’s citadel, from a bird's eye view. He then launched into a detailed explanation of the guards’ various routes (and favourite card games) and the different ways of avoiding suspicion to enter (or exit) the castle, suggesting his own (tried and tested) method of aging one’s self as a disguise. 

 

Morgana politely waited for him to finish explaining his master plan, before drawing two thick circles on the plan around the entrance and exit of Camelot’s infamous siege tunnels. 

Merlin heaved a put-upon sigh and gave her a pointed look before she explained. “Agravaine uses it for our meetings.” Merlin rolled his eyes. “Although, I do like the idea of the aging spell, I believe my sister used one in the past.”

 

“Except the only difference between hers and  _ mine _ is that my spell  _ physically  _ causes your body to age.” Morgana made a gesture that suggested she could see one or two of the possible flaws of becoming an actual old man (joint pain was the worst, if Merlin was honest), “Unlike Morgause’s trickery, which could be revealed the minute someone saw her in a mirror or otherwise reflective surface - no matter how well she practised her ‘old woman walk,’” the man bristled defensively. “However,” he admitted, “ _ I _ can’t be the one to do it, because the last time I did I was tried and almost executed for sorcery.” To her (limited) credit, Morgana tried not to laugh for a few seconds, her eyes round with wrong-footed surprise, before absolutely howling at the younger man. Merlin narrowed his eyes. “That is why  _ you _ will be doing it.” he deadpanned.

Morgana stopped abruptly and heaved a sigh, nodding determinedly.

 

On that note, Merlin gave her a charmingly chipper little smile, and handed her a small bottle with a cork stopper, filled with a dark and viscous liquid. Morgana pulled a face of (understandable) disgust at the concoction, before suddenly whipping around, spotting her newly dirtied cauldron.

“ _ Why _ does everybody keep hijacking my equipment!?” she threw her arms in the air.

Merlin shrugged, and Morgana reluctantly went to fetch her tattered old cloak. While she was gone, Merlin wrote a note for her to deliver to Gaius - and felt his worry for Arthur grow stronger with each passing moment, his handwriting starting to reflect the shakiness of his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRYYYYYYY!!!!! I haven't updated in weeks! I was on holiday, then I had to do college stuff, I have only just settled enough to finish this (short) chapter. There will be more soon, I hope. And those who have been this patient, you will be rewarded, i swear!  
> Next we find out what kind of fuckery is going down in the heart of Camelot... oh boy!


	8. Merlin's Letter

Gaius,

I am sorry that I left you in such a hurry, and may the Triple Goddess ensure this note is delivered to you safely. I have sought after Morgana, and she has agreed to help me find a cure for the King and Queen, on the condition that I reveal to her the identity of Emrys - I sincerely pray that she forgets about our bargain. Arthur and Gwen appear to have been dosed with the thorn of a Vuin Lily, allegedly by Lord Agravaine. I doubt you need me to tell you to take extra care around him. 

We do not yet know what is needed to concoct an antidote, this is also why you must give Morgana your book: _Forest Herbs and Flora: A Guide to their Magical Properties & Uses (Volume IV) _ by Saerus the Solitary. Morgana has returned from her scouting, and tells me that Arthur’s armies are headed east of Camelot castle, through the forest of Ascetir, raiding and burning druid camps as they go. They can only be headed for Ealdor. This is only a good omen in that I am SouthWest of Camelot castle, in the valley of the Fallen Kings. Keep the armies away from there.

Please, Gaius, if there is any hope that Arthur will listen, then tell him I wouldn’t have wanted it this way. Try to make him see reason, to stop the violence.

I hope to see you again soon. But if - for whatever reason - this plan fails, I always loved you like the father I never had. You were the best thing that’s ever happened to me (second only to meeting Arthur and learning of my destiny).

 

May She have mercy on Arthur. 

May She have mercy on Camelot. 

May She have mercy on us all.

 

Anxious regards,

Merlin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now, how does the citadel fare?  
> also, i'm sorry if i keep confusing you with the locations. just to be clear, the valley otfk, the forest of ascetir, in fact every location from the darkling woods to the labyrinth of gedref, is all in the kingdom of camelot. of all the places i've mentioned so far, only ealdor ISN'T in camelot. weird isn't it?


	9. Reconnaissance and Reinforcements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana and Merlin POV

Merlin was right, the potion _did_ age one’s body. Morgana felt like one of her nearest and dearest nemeses had placed an anvil onto her shoulders. She could feel her _bones scraping together,_ for Her sake. With a dejected shake of her head, she approached the gates to Camelot’s citadel. Her horse whinnied slightly as his path was suddenly blocked by a guard bearing the golden crest of Pendragon. 

“Name and business,” he barked. The priestess gave the man a slow, toothy (and somewhat yellow) smile before amicably answering.

“ _Antha Dred_ , dearie. I bring trade.” The guard narrowed his eyes in irritation.

“With whom?” Morgana ran her tongue over her teeth, the smile still splitting her wrinkled face. The action achieved its desired effect - the man looked quite green.

“His majesty’s court physician, Gaius.” 

 

Without another word, for he looked about ready to chuck up at this point, the nameless guard allowed Morgana passage into Camelot’s citadel. A rather significant mistake, although not entirely to his fault.

 

It was, in the most basic sense, still the same citadel she had left behind. However, the litany of safety inspections and vast amount of guards stalking the grounds and the interior of the castle itself almost got her caught. Entirely excessive, in her opinion, and quite unnecessary. On the other hand, she supposed the duo responsible for commanding Camelot’s militia were both quite out of sorts at the moment, so she pardoned their paranoia.

 

Her generously speckled hand rapped twice on the door to Gaius’ quarters, and the man answered dutifully. He paused, puzzled, eyebrow raised accordingly.

“Hello?” 

In response, Morgana shoved herself into the cluttered space, shoving the note into the physician’s torso. He saw the way said note was addressed (Gaius: it’s Merlin) and promptly shut his door.

The physician slipped on his glasses, patiently read it, and heaved a great sigh - the kind of sigh that only a very tired, very old man who has lived through the throes of war, can really pull off.

“At least he had the decency to explain.” He said in response, lifting his abandoned cup of tea from his workbench and sipping it. “Cold as the well water,” he observed calmly. He then continued to sip his inadequate brew as he fetched the book requested in the letter. Plonking it on the bench, he turned it to the appropriate page, “Let us begin,” he looked up to Morgana, “My lady.”

 

* * *

 

It was dark in the tunnels. And Merlin’s hair was all wet and slimy from the dripping stalactites. At this point, though, one had to wonder just how secure Camelot’s dungeons actually were. The last time Merlin came here it was to save Mordred from execution. Although that probably wasn't the best memory to dwell on in that moment.

 

He emerged stealthily and entered the dungeons, praying to the Triple Goddess that Arthur hadn’t changed the knights’ schedules. Sure enough, Gwaine, Percival, Leon and Elyan were all playing cards at their post, when Merlin cleared his throat.

“We know you’re there, Merlin,” said Elyan flatly.

“We heard the door to the siege tunnels,” Leon explained helpfully. So not as stealthy as Merlin had thought.

“Apparently my years-worth of sneaking experience are no match for my old friends,” he sighed.

“Nah,” Gwaine drawled, because he always drawls, “You’re just bad at it.” And he flashed Merlin a charming smile.

“You’re lucky you’ve got so much charisma, or he might just hit you.” Percival nudged the glossy-haired knight. Gwaine tried to act like it didn’t hurt by giving Percival a vaguely flirtatious wink, but Merlin knew better.

“Or turn me into a lizard, it would seem!” He joked, though Elyan and Leon were somewhat less amused. So a hush fell over the five of them. Merlin remedied this.

“Arthur is not himself,” The knights all groaned and mumbled their general agreement, “And neither is Gwen. They were given Pixy’s Needle and it has...revealed certain...undesirable thoughts,” he took a deep breath and composed himself, “They want Morgana and I dead. I fled to the Valley of the Fallen Kings and took shelter with Morgana.” At this, Leon and Elyan’s expressions turned slightly vengeful. Thankfully, all four knights continued to listen with rapt attention as Merlin continued, “She has agreed to help and is currently getting a book that will help us make the antidote from Gaius. But we are only two people.

“I hope it isn’t too much to ask for your help. You would have to abandon Camelot for now, and I’m not even sure that we will succeed. But if we don’t try, Arthur and Gwen may just be driven completely out of their minds by the Vuin Lily, and they will no longer be the people you know and serve.” His tone was level, his expression hard with a grim determination to free his master. Apparently, the knights picked up on this.

 

Gwaine slowly stood up in the dimly lit dungeon, “I said I wouldn’t miss being a knight in Arthur’s court for the world,” he placed a gloved hand firmly on Percival’s shoulder, and the larger knight covered it with his, “And I won’t let the greatest king Camelot has ever seen, make the mistake of killing the man he trusts more than anyone in the world.” he finished with another, more sincere, wink.

“Arthur introduced me to Gwaine.” Percival stood, his hand still atop the other man’s, “I owe it to him to do this.” Merlin gave them both a grateful nod, and turned to Leon and Elyan.

 

The younger knight stared at the table, picking at the wood. “My father was executed for sorcery. Our family hated sorcerers as much as any other decent person in Camelot.” Merlin sighed despondently at the reaction, "No." said the knight, with finality.

“Morgana betrayed us. Her magic corrupted her.” Leon stated. Merlin opened his mouth to protest, to defend the woman who agreed to aid him, but Leon continued in spite of him, “You are our friend, Merlin. So Elyan and I will not reveal your location to our king, but we refuse to work alongside criminals. We cannot, in good conscience, trust you.” 

Gwaine and Percival gave half hearted scowls to the two knights, and Gwaine was looking like he was ready to give them a piece of his mind when the main door to the dungeons swung open. All four knights drew their swords. Only two replaced them in their scabbards when Gaius and a newly young Morgana descended the stairs clutching a thickly bound leather book. 

 

“Merlin!” Gaius exhaled, embracing his nephew, “I am so glad you’re safe.” he then pulled away and glared at Leon and Elyan until they sheathed their weapons, “I cannot accompany you, though. I must stay and monitor the king and queen,” Merlin nodded his understanding, “But I will send you updates as often as I can.”

“Good.” Merlin patted the old man on the shoulder, “Gwaine and Percival will help,” he glanced over at the angrier knights, looking crestfallen, “And although they’ve agreed not to betray my whereabouts, Leon and Elyan refuse.” Their punishment was a disappointed shake of the head from the elderly court physician and a dark murmur of, “Then on their heads be the consequences.”

 

With Saerus’ book now in their possession, a priestess, a fun-loving drunk, a man who was really more of an emotive tree, and the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth, all descended into Camelot’s siege tunnels. Phase one of the plan to save Camelot’s beloved monarchy, was complete. Merlin just hoped they could trust the ones they left behind to keep their word.

 

 

“This place stinks like Gwaine’s socks.” said Percival, and a sound resembling that of leather hitting chainmail echoed through the darkness.  
_Idiots_ , thought Merlin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought you all deserved a longer chapter this time. Pity about Leon and Elyan tho 😢


	10. Bed Of Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like a bed of roses, the velvety petals look soft and inviting, but they are a facade. For the thorns sit hidden beneath, with malicious intent.

Their footsteps quietly crunched on dry leaves and twigs, joining the hushed rustling and shifting of the local wildlife, the night’s stars blinking down at them. Merlin was glad to have this time to just breathe, but as he looked over to Morgana, he saw only knitted brows and uncertainty. He was reminded of years before, when the king’s ward had discovered her magic, and Merlin tried his best to show her welcome instead of threat. He knew that Killgharrah held Albion above all things, but how could he have possibly wanted  _ this _ ? Merlin took a breath to steady himself.

 

“You had much potential.” Morgana’s head snapped up and her eyes narrowed, “Of course, you have surpassed my expectations. You’re very powerful. I just meant...I had hoped we would be on the same side…” he scuffed his boots in the dirt and moss, not meeting the priestess’ eyes. Her voice still caught his ears though.

“I will oppose whomever I need to, in order to claim what is my birth-right.” Her jaw was filled with years of tension, and if she gripped their torch any harder, the wood might have splintered.

“But  _ why _ ?” Merlin implored her, “Why do you want the throne so badly when Arthur already trusted your council so vehemently?” Morgana looked at him with genuine confusion. 

“Because my council means nothing compared to how tightly Arthur holds onto our father’s bloody legacy. I thought that,” she looked forward, focusing on the route ahead, her chin held high, “with you having magic, that you would’ve felt the same.” And then he realised.

 

Merlin was one of the only people who had heard the prophecies. Or, at least, Morgana hadn’t heard them. She had  _ no reason _ to trust in Arthur’s future. For, as far as she was concerned, Arthur hadn’t  _ given  _ her any reason to. The priestess said something to him once, to not think she didn't understand loyalty, just because she had no one left to be loyal to. Merlin wondered, then, how loyal she could've been to her brother - and to his kingdom - if he weren't so blinded by his prejudices.

 Merlin wanted to explain this to her.

 

“I’m sorry,” he began, and was interrupted by Gwaine hushing the group, his playful banter with Percival now a wary silence, “Hear that?” Merlin had to strain his ears a bit, but he heard it. Morgana’s complexion turned to that of a fresh corpse and all four of them rushed off the path into some shrubs. Gwaine snuffed out Morgana’s torch.

 

“Search  _ harder _ , she  _ has _ to be here, she  _ lives _ nearby!” came the whining voice of the enchanted Queen of Camelot. But that didn’t make any sense, Arthur’s armies were miles from the Valley just yesterday. It would’ve taken them days to reach Morgana’s hovel from where they were.

“But, your highness, the horses need water-”

“ _ I am your commander and you will do as I ask!” _ she snapped at the unlucky knight. Stalking over to him, she grabbed his hauberk threateningly, “Just because my dear  _ husband _ is still on his way from Ealdor,  _ doesn’t _ mean that you get to  _ question my authority! _ ” she hissed venomously, before dumping the knight into the mud, “Now,” she began sweetly, “keep  _ SEARCHING! _ ” she wailed to all the knights.

“But, there’s nobody here-”

“Then flush them out!” she screamed, “Burn down this whole  _ valley _ if you have to! But I WANT THEM FOUND!” she punctuated each word with a passionate stomp of her foot. In one final act of rage, she marched up to a knight and threw his torch on the ground. The dry leaves immediately began to burn brightly. The rest of the knights reluctantly followed the action after being ordered to by their deranged queen.

 

Once the fire really picked up, the small search party carried on down the path to Morgana’s hovel. 

“What are we going to do now!?” Gwaine demanded to Merlin once the party were out of earshot. Morgana calmly picked up the girthy branch that was once their torch, and promptly threw it as hard as she could at a tree, her actions illuminated by the steadily growing blaze beyond the shrubs. Her hovel was going to burn down, Merlin realised. But then he remembered something. He grabbed Morgana’s forearm, and addressed the group.

“It’s alright. I know a place. An old charcoal-maker’s hut, the owner died when the Dorocha attacked.” Morgana’s face brightened slightly.

“Sorry about that, by the way,” she gritted out, “But where is it?”

“About a day’s ride northwest of here, but it’ll take us a bit longer on foot.” He pointed in the direction they would have to go, thankfully, it lead away from the growing flames. Which, if put out with either Merlin’s or Morgana’s magic, would only arouse suspicion. Discretion had to be their top priority now.

“How much longer?” asked Gwaine.

“Half a day, no more.” Gwaine looked to his fellow knight, who nodded. They both looked to Morgana, who also nodded.

“Let’s go,” confirmed Percival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mad love to my unofficial beta, Lyss2011, love u babe <3


	11. If You Love Me

They walked until the sun peeked through gaps in the tree canopies above them, and caused light to dance around them like fae. 

They kept walking through the day, subsisting on berries, nuts, and the water from streams, until night began to creep up on them once more.

“We should set up camp for the night.” said Gwaine with a shiver ending in a hearty yawn. Percival nodded his agreement.

“I will collect firewood.” Morgana decided. As she began to walk away, Merlin grabbed her by the arm.

“Wait!” he hissed. Morgana panicked for a moment, did he not trust her? Merlin handed her the torch he was holding, “You can’t collect it if you can’t see it.” he explained with an apologetic smile. Morgana took the torch and thanked him - whether for the torch, or his faith in her, she supposed was up to his interpretation.

 

She set off into the thick trees, her torch scanning the ground for light wood. She took the time to listen to the sounds of the forest. It had been a while since she had allowed herself to strengthen her connection with the earth, but then, she’d been preoccupied trying to reclaim her throne. She could feel it now though, flowing through her, pulsing along with her blood. She picked up a few bits of twig and bark, and some moss for kindling.

How could Merlin be so loyal to Arthur? It simply didn’t make sense. It was clear that Merlin was very much against the persecution of sorcerers, yet he willingly served a man who perpetuated that system. _Very_ willingly, in fact. Was there something he knew that she didn’t? Some unknown factor that gave him hope for Camelot’s future relationship with magic. If only that were the case...perhaps then Morgana needn’t spend so much of her time vying for a throne that, deep down, she knew was never meant for her. 

Though she never understood why.

 

A rustling of bushes brought her out of her reverie. She heard a gasp, though it was not her own.

“Gwen…” she whispered to herself. Preparing to attack, allowing her magic to gather under her skin, she turned to face her brother’s queen. The face she was met with was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Relief, adoration, concern, anger, fear. Morgana then realised her eyes had turned gold in her attempt to arm herself. That probably didn’t help matters. 

Finally, Gwen’s expression settled into something dark - something full of malevolent intentions. Morgana gulped once.

“Morgana!” she announced, throwing out her arms, as if to present the priestess to a large gathering, “M’lady…” she curtseyed, her eyes never leaving the pale woman. She only broadened her sickly smile. It gave Morgana a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, like when you fall in a dream, and your whole body jolts you awake because _you swear it was real; you were about to die._  

“My Queen.” she managed a somewhat level tone. Although the twitches in her eye and lip betrayed her disdain at saying those words (at least in this context). When they were still maidservant and mistress, they would sometimes pretend to swap roles - Morgana wrapping Gwen’s sash around her shoulders and Gwen putting on some of her friend’s jewellery. Gwen’s expression faded into something earnest and... actually quite sad. Longing.

“Come with me.” she slowly extended her hand to Morgana, and the priestess was hit full force with an epiphany. These feelings were _real_ . Gwen was _actually_ in love with her. For a moment, just in her own mind, she let herself imagine a life where they could be together. A life where she woke up every morning to that kind face, those smooth brown eyes. One where she would no longer fear her power, where she would do tricks for her love and not be met with fear, but with wonder and amusement. Where she would be happy…

“I can cure you of your corruption.” 

 

Maybe not.

 

She took in the woman in front of her. A light-coloured fur draped over her shoulder, atop  a crisp, white tunic covering her arms. The fur was held in place by a leather belt, adorned with brass plating. A scabbard rested on her left hip. It was what she wore to take back Camelot after Morgana became Queen. It was a reminder.

 

This is _not_ Gwen.

 

Morgana straightened her posture, and schooled her expression.

“I am not corrupted. _You_ are not in your right mind.” Gwen’s face turned to fury. Morgana had to cover her ears as the woman let out a great, anguished cry. She’d just let her hands fall when Gwen unsheathed her sword.

“Then you shall die a traitor and a _criminal!_ ” she lifted it to strike, running at Morgana. Gwen was within spitting distance of the priestess before she was blocked by Morgana’s outstretched hand.

“ _Swefe nu._ ” she incanted, and Gwen collapsed onto her shoulder. Morgana hoisted her onto her shoulder and turned around. 

Just then, Merlin and Percival burst through the trees. Merlin was panting, crouched over, with his hands on his knees, as he explained.

“We heard a scream but it didn’t sound exactly like you but we weren’t sure and then we argued over who should go and who should stay. We decided to leave Gwaine because I’m a powerful sorcerer and Percival is, well,” he gestured up and down the very large and intimidating man’s profile, eyes still on the ground, “Anyway, then we got lost because we couldn’t see so I had to conjure a light,” he glanced quickly up at Morgana and then down again, “and by _that_ point we forgot which direction the scream came from and- is that the Queen of Camelot on your shoulder?” he snapped to full attention and pointed at Gwen - eyes wide, lips pursed and brows furrowed with concern - as he said that last bit.

 

Morgana look in the general direction of the woman (which of course meant looking directly at the queen of Camelot’s arse) and decisively said, “Umm, yes?”

 

* * *

 

Once they made it back to camp - Morgana effortlessly carrying Gwen, while Merlin lit the way with his magic - Gwaine pointed at the queen with a questioning quirk of his brow.

“We should get her restrained.” Morgana said by way of explanation, sliding her off her shoulder and holding the woman upright in front of her face. She frowned at the queen.

 

Gwaine just shrugged and Merlin said “Good idea!” followed by an incantation that caused rope to slither out of Merlin’s travel pack and wrap around Gwen, another incantation caused it to tie itself into a few tight knots. Morgana hummed in approval.

“Impressive.” she allowed.

Gwaine got up, walked over to Merlin, tugged his neckerchief off (“Hey!”) and expertly crafted a fabric gag, tying it behind their hostage’s head and placing the knot in her mouth. He nodded when satisfied.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Merlin asked. Gwaine and Percival shared a look, before both turning to Merlin and saying “Don’t think about it.” simultaneously.

Merlin and Morgana just shrugged as Percival slung Gwen over his shoulder, migrating to their much-needed bedrolls - Merlin immediately face-planting onto it, while Morgana opted for a slower descent. Percival rested Gwen carefully against a tree stump and settled on the one next to it; it was the knights’ turn to keep watch. Morgana closed her eyes.

“Wake us up in six hours?” Morgana heard Merlin ask one of them, along with the crackling of their fire.

“Will do.” assured Gwaine.

 

* * *

 

Morgana didn’t know when she fell asleep, but she was jostled awake by Merlin. It was pitch dark, but he had two torches. He thrust one at her.

“Take this,” she took it, “It’s our turn. They forgot to wake you, so I guarded alone for a bit,” Morgana rose slowly to her feet, rubbing her eyes. She looked over at Gwaine and Percival, who were already fast asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms. Morgana felt herself smile a little, at the thought that - even during all this - they still had each other.

Morgana sat at her post, and allowed her torch to illuminate the foreboding forestry ahead.

 

Gwen was going to be extremely upset when she woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna wait a little longer to put up this chapter, but I couldn't wait!!!!


	12. Let Me Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is crazy, Elyan has a mysterious past, and Leon is way too goddamn loyal.

Footsteps crunched on charred woodland as Arthur’s squadron arrived at the site of the fire. The king’s men had taken the route through Camelot’s citadel from Ealdor, cutting their travel time down by half. But, more importantly, it allowed two other knights to volunteer their services in the search for the wicked Morgana. 

 

Luckily, although the knights weren’t sure for whom, a tribe of druids discovered the blaze a few hours before the knights’ arrival, and quenched it. They then fled before the crazed king of Camelot could get to their families.

Elyan dismounted his horse and picked up a blackened leaf, the piece of foliage crumbled into dust and joined the breeze. The knight hoped it reached a place where its charred remains would enrich the soil beneath it, bringing forth new life. 

 

After spending as much time among druids as Elyan had before his return to Camelot, one did begin to regularly dream up such sentiments.

 

Although he had long since lost faith in sorcerers when he was told of his father’s death, Elyan couldn’t shake the feeling he had somehow done his sister a disservice by refusing the opportunity to help Merlin. He voiced his concerns to Leon once they were out of earshot of their prowling commander.

“I feel the same,” came his hushed reply, “But how were we to know that we were not being deceived by him? Merlin may have been our friend once, but he is still a sorcerer.”

“And there is no place for magic in Camelot," the younger knight replied weakly. Leon nodded curtly at Elyan’s appropriate answer, though his brows betrayed his concern.

 

In all honesty, neither man was in denial of Arthur’s frankly alarmingly peculiar behaviour. The only problem was that, try as they might, neither Elyan nor Leon could rationalise it. For days, Arthur was found in his throne room - curled up and sobbing - in the seat from which his father used to demand executions. If he was not there, he was on the training field, hacking away at whatever training dummy he could get his leather gauntlets on. Until more recently, the mere mention of his old manservant would’ve either caused him to throw something at the speaker, or to break down in tears. But then, something in him snapped, and he and Gwen had set out to find Merlin and Morgana; thirsty for blood.

 

In fact, until the previous night, neither knight knew exactly why both monarchs reacted so strongly to the mention of these people. It was the previous night that Elyan had heard the king pray.

 

_ “May God have mercy on my soul, for I have sinned...” _

 

And what Elyan had heard that night,

 

_ “My sin is one to which many have fallen prey...” _

 

Was all the proof he needed,

 

_ “I was tempted by sorcery...” _

 

That the king under which he served,

 

_ “My heart has been captured by him…” _

 

The man who once had his absolute faith and trust,

 

_ “By Merlin…” _

 

The husband of his dearest sister,

 

_ “For this, I plan to make him pay...” _

 

Had been driven completely out of his mind.

_ “With his life.” _

 

* * *

 

Just as he reflected on this moment, Elyan heard shouting. Leon had just received the report from the knights they had found here. He had just informed the king.

 

“-But sire, your wife is  _ missing _ !” Gwen…

“We have only  _ one  _ mission, Leon.” She was captured?

“Sire, what if she’s in danger!?” Merlin must have her; was that a comforting thought?

“Then we will search once Merlin has been dealt with.” Perhaps it was...

“My lord! You aren’t in your right mind!”

“ _ Enough! _ ” It was starting to look very comforting, “The only thing  _ you _ should be worried about is helping  _ your  _ commander locate a criminal. My wife is my business. She can fend for herself.” the ‘for all I care.’ was left unsaid. Even if Elyan still heard it.

 

Leon looked over at his brother-in-arms, as Arthur walked away.

“We have to find Merlin and Morgana…” he resigned.

“Before he does.” they looked over at their enchanted king. Gwen was definitely under threat, but not by two sorcerers.

 

That night, two horses went missing from the camp, along with their riders. Elyan just hoped that the king would be too obsessed with locating his manservant to go looking for them.

He tried not to think of it as surrendering to the will of a sorcerer, they both just wanted to help their friends; Who knew? Magic may have not even been to blame.

“Let’s hope so...” came Leon’s reply. Apparently he’d said that out loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yikes, bad panic! reference, huh?  
> short chapter, i know, oh well...


	13. Space For Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Potions, pining, and putrid smells.

Merlin was slaving over a metal pot (the closest thing they had to a cauldron in this old hut), when Gwaine rushed over to him from behind a curtain of tattered fabric and dead animals. His eyes were wide and frantic as he spoke.

“She’s waking up.”

 

Morgana, who Merlin noticed had been watching his work with an impatient frown, immediately jumped to her feet and vanished behind the curtain.

Gaius had already given them a few of the ingredients they needed, and the rest weren’t hard to find, so it didn’t take long for Merlin to finish adding them all. All he needed was a strand of Gwen’s hair, and the antidote would be ready to administer; he trusted either Morgana or Gwaine to take care of that one.

 

As he heard Percival clear his throat from his post outside, Merlin suddenly felt very grateful for the friends he had met since coming to Camelot all those years ago. How quickly Gwaine and Percival had gotten used to his magic (making him feel a lot safer performing the spellwork this potion required, among other things); how kind Gwen had always been to him, before the Vuin Lily; and how happy he was to have been appointed Arthur’s manservant that day (though that was a secret he would take to the grave).

 

Although, Merlin wondered whether he would really need to keep secrets from Arthur after this. After all, he did know about Merlin’s magic. 

 

As Merlin heard the varied shouts and thuds of Morgana and Gwaine attempting to wrestle a strand of hair from Gwen’s head, Merlin allowed himself to imagine a world where he didn’t need to fear discovery, or persecution. He dreamed of telling his best friend all those funny stories he’d never been able to because they all involved his magic. He pictured the way Arthur would react to them, the wonderful faces he would pull. Merlin mostly just pictured his laugh though, and that rare and beautiful smile that the young warlock always held in his memories.

 

He imagined showing Arthur what he could do with his magic; molding sparks into dragons, starting fires at will, making all his chores just do themselves (“I always knew you were lazy, Merlin, but this is ridiculous!”). And the look of wonder, of astonishment on his master’s face, illuminated by a thousand magical dragons flying in spirals above his head. 

And if it was true, if Arthur really did love him, that’s where they would kiss. In the fading firelight, warm in Arthur’s chambers. Merlin hoped his lips were soft, wondered if Arthur would lightly cradle his face with strong, gentle hands - or if he would pull Merlin in close, molding their bodies together, as if afraid that Merlin would leave him. 

Merlin didn’t think he would be able to, even if he tried...

 

“Merlin!” Gwaine’s triumphant whooping made the warlock jump so hard he almost knocked the pot over. After catching the pot containing the potion he slaved over for so long, Gwaine bounded over to him with three of Gwen’s hairs in his fist, “Take your pick.” he teased with his hand open.

 

Merlin took the longest of the queen’s curls, and dropped it into the pot. It sizzled upon contact and burst into flames. Which was great because it gave Merlin a clear sign that the potion was done, and also horrible because now the whole hut smelt of burnt hair. Which, if you were unfamiliar with burning hair, smelled  _ abysmal _ .

 

They eventually had to pry Gwen’s mouth open to administer the potion. Morgana and Merlin at least felt  _ some _ sympathy for her, of which Gwaine showed very little (and much too much amusement).

She ceased her violent thrashing after swallowing the liquid - to the sorcerers’ relief, and Gwaine’s disappointment - and her eyes fluttered open, immediately migrating to the priestess’ face.

“Morgana…?” she began, brows furrowed, beginning to reach out her hand. Then a loud hammering was heard against the entrance to the hut. “There’s someone at the door.” she finished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while, hasn't it? sorry. but I think i'm getting back into writing this again (hope y'all can tell).


	14. Teamwork, Unity, All That Fun Stuff

Morgana pulled her old maidservant into the protection of her arms. The queen gave a sniff, before gripping tightly to the woman, nuzzling into her shoulder like a weepy princess. Morgana knew that fear and confusion were the most likely motivators, but she still pressed a subtle kiss to the top of Gwen’s head and whispered “I’ve got you.” into her hair. She also tried not to focus on the rich aroma of pine and vanilla spices wafting from Gwen’s royal locks, turning her attention to the door.

 

There was silence, Gwaine approached, sword drawn. He swung the door open quickly and pointed his blade at the knocker.

When they all realised that the knight was a hair's breadth away from slicing the throat of sir Leon, Morgana watched Gwaine slowly sheathe his weapon.

 

“Well?” came a familiar voice that had Gwen lifting her head to watch (much to Morgana’s dismay), “Are they here?” said Elyan’s head, as it popped up from behind Leon’s shoulder.

He spotted his sister immediately, “Guinevere!” he beamed, “We’ve come to help!”

 

Morgana couldn’t see because of her angle, but she thought Gwen smiled at her brother in response, because after that both knights entered the hut, followed by Percival, who closed the gnarled wooden door behind him.

 

“Elyan!” she squealed, shuffling out of Morgana’s grip, and ran to hug her brother. Leon attempted to also hug her and earned a fist in the arm and a startled look from Gwen.

“I’ve had a very long couple of days…” She sighed, raking her hands over her face. Morgana wanted to hug her again, or maybe get her flowers - they always seemed to cheer her up. Leon stepped past them and addressed Merlin, Morgana, Gwaine and Percival.

“I must apologise,” the older knight began, scuffing his boot on the dirty hut floor, “on behalf of Elyan and myself for not agreeing to help you sooner.” He then took a deep breath and stood to attention as Elyan let his sister return to Morgana. Gwen gripped her hand tightly, and Morgana quietly thanked the Triple Goddess for Her graciousness, “When Arthur found out about Gwen’s disappearance, we thought he would be furious, given his current condition…”

“But he thought nothing of it,"  Elyan spat, protective of his only remaining family, “he only wanted to find you, Merlin.” Everyone focused on the sorcerer. Merlin visibly paled, then cleared his throat,

“As you can see, we have managed to cure Gwen of the effects of the Lily’s thorn,” he gestured to Gwen.

“And I am very grateful.” she assured him with a courtly incline of her head. Morgana always knew she would make an excellent queen...perhaps once all this was over, she could finally stop resenting her for that.

“Thank you, Gwen,” Merlin returned his attention to the knights, “But we only managed to do so by adding a strand of her hair to that potion.” He pointed to the pan, “Do you know of a way we could obtain Arthur's hair?”

 

Leon and Elyan exchanged a look.

“He is sweeping the entire forest.” Elyan answered. Gwen nodded in confirmation from Morgana’s side.

“Yes, I remember us planning to search all of Camelot from both sides-”

“Yes, but Elyan and I left on a whim. I’ve no doubt he has noticed our absence and assumed we found something.” Leon interrupted. Morgana gulped, she knew the implications,

“Then he follows your trail as we speak.”

 

There was total silence in the cabin, they were all lost for words. They had spent days trying to remain hidden from Arthur, and although they now had more intelligence, their friends had lured him right to where they slept. Suddenly, Merlin spoke up.

 

“Let him come,” he said, his eyes wide with the manic elation of a clearly insane idea. He approached Leon and Elyan, “Bring him here, bring his whole search party-”

“You’ve lost your mind!” Morgana insisted. Merlin flashed her a giddy smile,

“We can’t avoid him forever Morgana! The only way to cure him is to administer the potion, and we can’t do that if we keep running!” he implored. He then turned to the hut’s inhabitants, four misfit knights, a queen, and two sorcerers. He pointed to Leon and Elyan, “Return to Arthur and say you found our hideout, lead him here. Make sure you are leading the march, or else he will arrive before either of you have the opportunity to deliver me one of his hairs. Get me a strand of his hair, got it?” Leon and Elyan nodded. Then Merlin turned to Gwaine and Percival, “You two will help me to fortify the hut as best we can. Remember, it only has to last long enough for me to administer the potion to Arthur: once he is cured, he will call off the knights. Can you do that?”

“We’ll gather the supplies now.” Gwaine said in response. Then, true to their word, both knights hurried out of the house. Merlin addressed Morgana now,

“You and I will cast spells about the perimeter of the hut to detect Arthur’s knights when they approach. And perhaps some to slow them down or incapacitate them, so we don’t have to deal with so many. Are you with me?”

Morgana hesitated, then nodded, “But what about Gwen?”

“She will act as bait. When Arthur and his knights arrive, Gwen will go outside and lure Arthur into the hut.”

Morgana was concerned with this plan, “You’re going to have to pretend you’re still enchanted. Can you do that, my lady?”

Gwen smiled, “I oversee matters of state, Morgana, I have performance skills to rival the thespians.” Elated, the priestess may have overstepped slightly with her subsequent remark,

“Oh, Gwen! I could kiss you!” She blurted. Then, catching herself, Morgana blushed scarlet, which would’ve been detrimental to her reputation as a scary witch. But, as it was, Gwen seemed slightly flustered as well.

“Alright, then.”

 

The next thing Morgana knew, was Gwen’s lips on hers. The woman who had been so in love with her that Pixy’s Needle saw fit to enchant her based upon it, was now doing the one thing that Morgana had spent so many sleepless nights thinking about. It was her one regret, after she left Camelot; not kissing Guinevere. Yet, there they were - and there they stayed for much longer than was polite. Merlin had long since left, Morgana thought. It was wonderful, and soft, and warm, and so tender it made Morgana’s knees weak.

 

Eventually Gwaine barging through the door with piles of wood and poison ivy, caused them to jump apart, feeling equal parts embarrassed and absurdly happy. Merlin tutted at the knight from across the hut.

“See, Gwaine, now look what you’ve done! They were having a romantic moment!”

“Sorry, ladies!” teased the culprit as he merrily bounded past the couple. Percival was a bit more genuine when he apologised.

 

That night, after hours spent fortifying the tiny charcoal maker’s hut, Leon and Elyan set off to find Arthur, and everyone else went to sleep.

 

Morgana was delighted when Gwen slept in her arms that night. And when they couldn’t sleep, Morgana made all of the queen's favourite flowers grow around them, while they spent their nervous energy on long kisses and braiding each other’s hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, haven't updated in a WHILE. I start college in two weeks, AND I'm working on another fic on the side (which you guys will see when I EVENTUALLY finish this one, lol) hope you enjoyed the Morgwen fluff tho <3 (it was inevitable, I'm afraid)


	15. Only a Partial Failure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin being a leader again, but with different energy this time.

Merlin awoke to the sound of something hammering on the door of the hut, but it wasn’t that night’s rain.. Panicked, he stumbled over and opened it - only to see Leon and Elyan, soaking wet and wide-eyed. Like the drowned spirits of the druid graveyards, they looked pale, and heavy.

Even over the torrential downpour, Merlin could hear Elyan’s broken rasp,

“They’re coming.”

Suddenly, the rain changed sounds. From the steady patter on wood and earth, the harsh clanging of droplets hitting metal emerged distantly, with little care for how much it ruined the once still atmosphere. Leon shoved Merlin inside by his jacket lapels, and Elyan stood in the doorway, near constantly looking over his shoulder.

“Merlin!” the warlock’s attention returned to the man still gripping his jacket, once cheerfully curled hair gone limp and dark, “Is there still time to cast protection spells?” It was clear from the knight’s tone that they had been heavily relying on Merlin’s magical skills to buy them time. 

 

But they knew nothing of magic.

 

Merlin shook his head once, eyes stinging from their lack of moisture. He blinked. The wild desperation in Leon’s face faded into blind terror. Merlin couldn’t let them fear, he couldn’t.

“Wake the others.” he ordered. Leon jumped into action, resorting to kicking and shoving his friends awake.

 

Morgana verified Merlin’s answer to Leon, and everyone began quietly bickering. Those who did not blame Leon and Elyan for bringing Arthur so soon, were worrying about the lack of magic there to protect them. Merlin glanced over to Elyan, who now stood with his back to the inside of the hut, letting in a biting draft and keeping watch. This wasn’t working.

He walked over to the pot in which he had brewed Gwen’s antidote. Turning to his left, he picked up the wooden spoon he had used to stir. Finally, he brought the two objects together with a loud  _ gong _ that silenced the bickering and echoed through the hut; louder than their hushed voices, louder than the rain, louder than the distant footsteps of Arthur’s men, and louder than the jumble of incomprehensible nonsense filling Merlin’s troubled mind.

 

He took a deep breath.

 

“Leon, hair.” the knight delivered him a small white cloth which, when unfolded, held a single golden piece of Arthur Pendragon. With a quick spell, Merlin lit the fire under the spit, heating the mounted pot and its contents. He dropped the hair into the mixture, and it sizzled, ignited, and was stirred into the magical concoction as embers,

“The potion isn’t ready, it won’t be ready for a while, and long after Arthur has arrived and slain you all. So I recommend you stop casting blame and focus on a way to keep this hut safe, with me inside it.” he paused to put down the spoon, “The sounds you can hear are being created by Arthur and his men, on foot. I believe you all should thank Leon and Elyan for convincing them that horses were unnecessary.” a few muttered words of thanks could be heard, “But those sounds are getting louder. You have no time left,” he finally turned to face the group in its entirety,

“Arm yourselves.”

 

Four knights and a queen drew their swords, and the last great priestess’ eyes glowed a terrifying gold. One that Merlin was sure her enemies were all too familiar with.

A man who lost his father to a tyrant’s unjust laws, another who had seen the worst of nobility, one who had been loyal to the same man since he was a boy, one who had lost his entire family to the evil Morgana, the most powerful blacksmith’s daughter alive, and the one person who never failed to stand up to Uther Pendragon; filed out of the house, and into battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tiny but effective chapter is tiny but effective


	16. Sealed With

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fight.

Merlin's friends surrounded the hut as best they could, and the sky began to turn amber as the sun peeked over the horizon, ever so slightly. With this, the rain ceased and, true to their training, Arthur's men remained silent and hidden.

 

There was stillness, Merlin heard, for barely a few seconds. Then the land surrounding the hut filled with battle cries. Soon, a metallic symphony of violence filtered through the small windows, and men wailed as they were thrown back into the trunks of trees by what could only be Morgana. 

 

Merlin shuffled silently about the hut, adding ingredients to the antidote as needed, and magically adjusting the heat as required. He knew it was busy work, but at least it would distract him from the commotion outside. It did. At first.

 

_ "MERLIN!" _

 

The first taunt rose above the pained screeches and scrapes of steel on steel. Someone began to pound on the door.

 

Merlin cursed under his breath, but couldn't utter the spell quick enough to seal the door, and it was flung open by an older knight. Merlin ran to him, but before the warlock could think of a spell, he was grabbed by the throat. Merlin had always suspected some knights would react badly to his magic; Sir Bethren must've been one of them.

 

The pain was excruciating and all blood flow got caught, his feet were numb and not touching the ground. It was, well, suffocating. Merlin could see black begin to outline his vision as the strength slowly drained from him, his limbs going limp-

"NO!" 

Suddenly the pressure was released and Merlin fell abruptly to the ground, a gloved hand helped him to his feet while he coughed and rasped. Distantly, Merlin saw Bethren shuffle out of the hut, tearing vines of poison ivy from around his wrists.

 

Next, Merlin noticed that all sounds of battle had faded to vast silence, and the jarring realisation made his stomach swirl.

 

Finally, the warlock slowly lifted his head and met the gaze of his saviour. His eyes were blue. His hair, gold. His smile, deadly. 

 

Merlin made a mad scramble for the other end of the hut. He stopped in front of the workbench with his back to Arthur. The antidote bubbled slowly from in front of him. He subtly filled a vial, and pocketed it.

 

"I'm not going to hurt you, Merlin," came the silky voice of a man possessed. 

 

"Then why hurt my friends?" demanded the sorcerer. Arthur furrowed his brow.

 

"Hurt them? They've been captured, I haven't hurt them. At least not yet," said the king. He sounded happy in the knowledge he'd threatened people he used to care about, "You could join me you know," he began, taking a single step forward. Merlin heard his boot on the stone floors, "I would give you the world and more. You need only ask for it."

 

"You would legalise magic?" Merlin cut through Arthur's temptations with ease. He was not an easy man to manipulate.

 

"Perhaps." Arthur drawled, the tremor in his voice only noticeable to the trained ear.

 

"Liar," said Merlin.

 

At this point Arthur was halfway to where Merlin stood, one arm planted on the surface of the bench, shoulders tense, in case he needed to hurt the king with his magic. Making it clear the man needed to be careful.

 

"And yet it would be so easy for me to burn you," the king hissed, "trust me, the alternative is much more  _ beneficial _ ."

 

"What's the alternative? Secrecy? Injustice? Complicity in the face of genocide?" Merlin bit out. He felt his magic crackle in his anger. Arthur chuckled low in his chest,

 

"Luxury. Decadence. The credit you so _ deserve _ ," at that Merlin snorted in disgust. Arthur adapted, "Please, Merlin. I need you, I've always needed you. You know I'd be nothing without you!" He pleaded, stepping still closer to Merlin.

 

"Ha! Do you really expect me to believe you? After the welcome you showed me!" Merlin shouted, "You're not even _ trying _ !"

 

At once Merlin knew that was a mistake. Arthur sighed convincingly, and Merlin heard him remove his gloves.

 

"Merlin, you're the only friend I've ever had. Don't you see? I want to protect you. I can only imagine how much of a burden it must be to live in Camelot with your powers. If you come back with me, we can pretend this whole thing never happened…" Arthur had reached the table. Slowly, he wrapped his hand around Merlin's wrist, placatingly. It took all of Merlin's willpower to stay focused, he tightened his grip on the vial in his pocket.

Arthur's grip on Merlin's wrist was loose, but would tighten at a moment's notice. He wouldn't let Merlin reach for the pot.

 

Arthur ran his hand up Merlin's arm. Slowly enough to make Merlin shiver. Then he slowly brought it back down again, and leaned in close to Merlin's ear,

"I don't know what I would do with myself, if anything were to happen to you…"

Merlin pulse jumped visibly in his throat, and he turned his head slightly away from Arthur's, flushed pink. 

_ Stop looking at me _ , he thought, _ or it'll never work _ .

 

Arthur took the bait, and began mouthing his way down Merlin's neck. The warlock cursed inwardly,  _ focus _ .

 

"You've no idea how long I've wanted you for, Merlin…" Arthur whispered, his voice carefully controlled and measured. Merlin withdrew the bottle from his pocket, while Arthur's lips grazed his ear, "You're so…  _ beautiful _ -" Arthur's voice broke on that word. Merlin could've sworn, for a moment, that was the real Arthur talking. But he didn't linger on it, as he carefully emptied the vial of antidote into his mouth. 

 

Arthur noticed, and the blade he already had poised on Merlin's back, sunk in. The warlock gasped, winded as Arthur quickly withdrew the blade.  _ It's now or never _ , thought Merlin.

 

He then, wordlessly, yanked Arthur off of his neck, whirled around and crushed their mouths together. Arthur opened up to his ministrations almost immediately, but by the time he realised Merlin's plan, it was too late. 

 

Arthur had drunk the antidote.

 

Merlin quickly pulled away and Arthur went limp against him for a moment. When he roused, the blond shoved off of Merlin - almost knocking him to the floor - and looked around frantically.

When his gaze settled on Merlin, all memories seemed to catch up to him and his eyes bugged out of their sockets.

 

" _ MEN! For Her sake, let them all go! _ " Merlin sighed with relief and began to thank Arthur, but his words were lost when Arthur kissed him.

 

It was frantic and desperate but Merlin didn't care. Arthur pulled away as suddenly as he'd begun the kiss and whispered a breathy "Thank you. Thank you for it  _ all _ ," against Merlin's lips.

 

The emotions were too much for Merlin, as if he were under the spell of Pixy's Needle himself, he crushed his lips against Arthur's hard enough to make him stumble and fall onto the ground. Luckily, he landed on a pile of furs, which Merlin's magic provided without his knowledge. In fact, Merlin's magic also slammed shut and sealed the door, locking all their friends out; covered every window with blankets; lit a few candles to make up for the lost light; and made wildflowers grow from between the cobbles. 

 

Of course, Merlin wasn't aware of any of this, he was too busy devouring as much of Arthur as he could manage. He straddled the blond's lap and ran reverent fingers through his golden hair, and Arthur poured all his apologies into their kisses, until Merlin pulled away. He pressed their foreheads together and they locked eyes. Merlin was caught off guard by the open adoration in the eyes of the man in front of him.

 

" _ I forgive you _ ," said Merlin. The flowers bloomed brightly all around them.

 

\-------

 

Then, the door creaked open on a breeze, the candles were snuffed out, every blanket fell to the floor with a muffled thud, and the flowers wilted and died.

 

"My back hurts." Said Merlin. Then Arthur registered the warm wetness against his palm, where it rested over Merlin's wound, and the warlock went limp against him.

  
" _ HELP! _ " Was all the king could manage, the words were ripped from his throat, and Morgana, Gwen, and the knights came stumbling in.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time, no see. My bad, college is proving...challenging. But fun! (But also challenging)


	17. A Kiss

Percival and Elyan hoisted Merlin onto Arthur's horse, while Leon fetched and packed their supplies. 

Gwen and Morgana mounted the same horse, and Gwen wrapped her arms tightly around the priestess' waist, nuzzling the space between her shoulder blades. Arthur smiled at the sight. If only one good thing had come out of this whole mess, it was that Gwen and Arthur were with their loves. Almost.

 

Gwaine wandered over to the log on which Arthur resided, and joined him there with a relieved sigh. 

"Nothing like that post battle adrenaline rush, eh princess?" Arthur said nothing. There was a pause while Gwaine stared at his face, trying to puzzle him out, "He's not gonna die, y'know. Not a hope in Hell." Arthur just scoffed, "Hey, don't pretend you don't know that. You know him better than you think." 

"How, Gwaine? I didn't even know about his magic until the day Agravaine had me poisoned," Arthur sighed at Gwaine's optimistic outlook.

" _ How? _ Because you two are the closest people I've ever met, that's how!" Gwaine jumped to his feet, "I've seen you two have whole conversations from across the room during council meetings and feasts, without exchanging a single word! Not to mention how you always seem to know what the other is doing, where they are, or what kind of mood they're in." Gwaine collapsed back onto the log before continuing more quietly, "It's like you're tailor-made for each other, like two sides of the same coin." He then gave Arthur a brusque clap on the back, before hopping back up again and moving in the general direction of the horses, "Come on, princess, let's make sure your knight in shining armour lives long enough for you to--" Camelot's chattiest knight made an exaggerated kissy face--" _ thank  _ him."

 

Arthur gave him a good slap before mounting behind an unconscious and bandaged Merlin.

 

"Everything will be fine," he whispered to the warlock, "I love you," he breathed, running soothing fingers through the man's dark hair and waxing poetic about it's raven-like colour in his head.

 

Maybe he liked poetry afterall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter, Wait for it....


	18. The Dragon's Slumber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End, that's it, go home.

Merlin woke in his bed, to his master's blue eyes.

"You're awake." Whispered Arthur, with the slightest smile of relief.

"Can't be late for my chores." Merlin croaked, before his thoughts caught up to him, "Wait, I- there was- and I...and you…" Arthur placed a careful hand over his own, and gently shushed him.

"You're in recovery," he said, "Gaius thinks your magic healed you."

"Healed?" Merlin muttered as he reached behind himself. No bandage. Not even a scar…

Wait, "Magic? W-what magic? I don't know what you're-" Merlin stopped his panic mid-sentence, as Arthur chuckled.

"I've known for some time now. Before the Lily."

"Then why haven't you killed me?" Merlin demanded, his breathing shallow.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Arthur's face morphed into something sad, and betrayed, and it hurt Merlin to see him like that.

"You'd have chopped my head off." He attempted a humourless joke. Arthur's face fell further.

"I'm sure I would've…" 

Merlin steeled his expression and placed a firm hand on Arthur's nape.

"And I didn't want to put you in that position."

 

They held that stare for a moment, before slowly leaning in, and sharing a single, slow kiss.

 

* * *

 

Arthur spent that night in his own chambers, but hurried to Merlin's room before he woke with a tray of food. They spent the morning clearing up a few misunderstandings and exchanging stories. They laughed and ate together, until…

"Wait, so I didn't actually kill the Dragon?"

"No," Merlin replied around a mouthful of bread, "Kilgharah's fine. He helps me with things. He can be a bit rude though."

"I wondered why there wasn't a corpse," Arthur stole a strawberry, and got thwacked on the forehead, "Worth it. So, how did you scare off this 'Kilgharah'?"

Merlin's eyes flicked down to his plate, and he picked at the bread.

"I told him to."

"What? And he listened? Don't be ridiculous Merlin, you're not a Dragonlord," Arthur laughed at his own joke. But when Merlin's eyes met his, they were cold, serious, "Are you?" He asked, uncertain.

"I inherited my powers when my father died." There was silence for a while, the kind of silence where your thoughts are running wild, but you just can't think of the right thing to say.

 

"I thought you never knew your father." Arthur settled on that. Merlin reached under his bed, and relieved a small wooden carving of a dragon. Some of the edges looked worn, but Arthur figured out why when Merlin began running his fingers over the carving.

"I only knew him for a day," he began, and a small smile stretched his lips, "and then he was killed by bandits. But I feel him with me, whenever I summon Kilgharah, it's like he's standing there with his hand on my shoulder. Reassuring me, guiding me, and showing me how proud he is that I'm his son."

Arthur's face turned downcast, "And I told you not to cry," Merlin jumped to look at him, "It was Balinor, wasn't it?" The warlock nodded once, "If I'd known… I would've helped you grieve, Merlin, I swear. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, I was a fool, when my father-" suddenly Merlin's arms were around him.

 

"You just didn't want to see me cry." Arthur pulled away far enough to look into Merlin's eyes.

"You can cry all you need to. Right now." And yet again, they kissed. It was wet, because Merlin _ did _ cry. But maybe Arthur cried a little too, so it was okay.

 

Soon they just started laughing, out of sheer relief, and they eventually couldn't kiss anymore so they just held each other. Which proved necessary to stop them falling off the bed.

 

Then they calmed, and Arthur was playing with Merlin's hair.

"I'm sorry for stabbing you, by the way." 

This earned several slaps from an enraged sorcerer.

 

Worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE DAY BITCH, OMG IT'S FINALLY DONE I'M SO TIRED😭😭😭😭  
> Major credit to Lyss2011, seriously dude, you complete me👌👌👌(and my fics lmao)


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